Hurdles for a Family Man
by Neina-Marie
Summary: Lord Voldemort may be conquered, but evil has not.
1. Chapter 1

Harry folded the newspaper with a sigh of... was it sadness? Annoyance? Pity? He threw it onto the coffee table next to him, and glanced at the picture gracing the front page of the _Daily Prophet_. It was his own, smiling, slightly harrassed-looking face shining from the front page. In the photo, Harry was walking through the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic, trying to kindly shake off the photographer who was constantly blinding Harry with a huge flash, and choking him with a puff of smoke, both emitting from the large, old-fashioned camera the photo had been taken with. Above this photo was the bold title: _**Harry Potter - our next Albus Dumbledore?  
><strong>_Harry had been expecting this blow for many years now - he was climbing steadily up the Auror ranks with Ron by his side, and the mutterings going around were that Kingsley Shacklebolt was getting a bit old for the job. The small portion of writing that was peeping over the fold in the newspaper read boldly: _After taking the seat from Death Eater Pius Thicknesse, Kingsley Shacklebolt has been Minister of Magic for around 13 years. However, at 62 years of age, it seems Shacklebolt will be stepping down in a matter of months. However, polls conducted by the Prophet have indicated that many people would like to see one man in particular rise to his heights. Yes, readers, we are talking about Harry Potter, the Boy who Lived, the Chosen One, the defeater of He Whom Was Not To Be Named. And yet it seems Potter is perfectly comfortable warding off any Dark Wizards even thinking about going down the hideous path You-Know-Who, and doesn't even want to talk about taking the job as Minister. This behaviour is very similar to Albus-"  
><em>Harry smiled as he leant back in his comfy armchair. The _Prophet_, he thought fondly, always making stupid new rummors to add to the non-existent ones blowing into their empty heads.  
>Humming the Hogwarts school song, Harry closed his eyes. Life was sweet. Like a sugar quill. Life tasted of maginificence, of happiness, of love and of peace. Harry wriggled his shoulders with pleasure. Then, with a sudden thought, opened his eyes, stood up and strode across the room, navy-blue robes billowing behind him. He pulled out a scroll of parchment, an ink bottle and a slightly bent quill from the stationary drawer, and knelt down at the coffee table. Harry unscrewed the bottle, dipped the quill into the ink and began to scribble a note.<br>_Ron, would it be possible if I popped over to your place this evening? Ginny and Lily are at your parent's, and Albus and James are at George's for the night, he says he needs a bit of company for young Fred. Please send your answer back with Pig 2. Cheers, Harry._  
>Harry re-read the note. Yes, he decided, it sounded nice enough. He just hoped Ron, Hermione and their two kids weren't out, because Flame, his pheonix, wouldn't take kindly to trying to find the little family through most of England.<br>"Flame?" Harry called out quietly, and with a blinding flash of orange flames, the pheonix was perched on the armchair next to where Harry was kneeling.  
>Harry rolled up the scroll, magically sealed it, and gave it to Flame. Flame sung a long, throbbing note, and then vanished with his usual flash a flames.<br>Harry stood, sunk back into the armchair, and picked up the Prophet. He turned to page 21, where the puzzles were. He decided to tackle the wordfinder, which was a tricky blighter, because the unfound words kept moving, especially when you think you've found a word. He grabbed the ink and quill from where he was sitting, and began to figure out the puzzles.  
>He was trying to find <em>Werewolf<em>, when someone knocked at the door.  
>Harry frowned. Who would it be? Ginny and the kids were all out for the night - maybe it was Ron and Hermione, Rose and Albus? He folded the paper, the quill ontop of it, and got out of the chair, alking to the top of the stairs. He looked at the long, winding staircase that lead to the ground floor, and frowned. He twisted around, and with a crack, pop and an uncomfortable feeling of being squeezed out of a tube, Harry apparated to the front step. He pulled open the door and took several steps backwards, flabbergasted.<br>A tall, yet young, brown-haired Witch stood on his doorstep, dark brown eyes alight with fear. She was wearing deep red robes with embroidered hems, and her wand was clutched in her hand so tightly it was almost snapping. Tears were brimming dangerously, some even spilling down her freckled cheeks, which could have rivalled the Weasley's. No Muggles were wandering the streets, so Harry grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her into the dining room, closing the door behind her. The witch collapsed into a chair, tears in her eyes, fear etched in her face.  
>"Harry Potter," she said in a high moan that made goosebumps travel up his arms, "I'm here to warn you... grave... g-grave dangers are just around the corner... oh you <em>must<em> understand!" She fell fowards onto the oak table, and sobbed with terror and anguish. Harry was still nonplussed, but his Auror training helped him get over the confusion.  
>"What's your name?" he asked her in a kind, quiet voice, but the kindness seemed too much - she flung herself off the table and onto the very floor, curled up in a ball and began rocking backwards and fowards, shrieking wordlessly, sobbing full-pelt. Harry was forcibly reminded of Dobby the House Elf on the very first day they met. His eyes filled with tears, but he gritted his teeth and resisted them - he had more important matters to take care of.<br>"Madam?" he asked again, quietly, politely, "Your name."  
>"Belita," she sobbed, "I'm Belita O'Lloyd."<br>Harry pointed his wand at Belita, and she began to slowly stop crying. Soon, she was faintly smiling, wiping her nose with her sleeve. When she had finished, it was quite slimy and disgusting.  
>"<em>Tergo<em>," she said hastily, pointing her wand at the sleeve. The snot was siphoned off.  
>"Harry Potter," she said in a quiet voice, hicouhging every so often, " Defeater of Lord Vold... Lord Thingy. I need your help."<br>"Certianly, Belita," Harry said, smiling kindly, sitting himself in the chair nearest him, "What would you like help with?"  
>"I..." She paused. Evidently she didn't want to tell Harry the secret that caused her such a breakdown.<br>She tried again. "I have to tell you..."  
>"Yes?"<br>"Oh dear... my husband... or should I say, former husband... he's stooped to You-Know-Who's level. He's played with dark magic, he's experimented with Witches and Wizards, who never came right again. He wants to create a super-race, with himself the leader. These people will be all the same as him... dirty, cruel, disgusting in every way. And once again, Muggles and Muggle-Borns alike will be slaughtered and driven off the Earth. Because he's found a way to become immortal. And he reckons that a select few should also take this path. No need for more off-spring. No need at all. A coup of the Ministry, and then..." Belita looked up at Harry with tears pouring down her face again.  
>"<em>Then we all die<em>."


	2. Chapter 2

Harry sat back in his chair, head full with what Belita just told him. She began to sob steadily harder, and Harry had to use the cheering charm again. His mind was spinning with solutions, ideas, steps to take. He finally decided to take the most logical step - send a note to Ginny with Prongs - Ginny would then send it on to Luna and all the other Order of the Pheonix Members.  
>Harry pulled his wand out, and pointed it away from Belita - he didn't want her to be threatened - and thought as hard as he could about his amazing family. "Expecto Patronum!" Prongs exploded from his wand tip, and cantered over to Harry, Belita looking at Harry in awe. "Prongs," Harry said under his breath, "Tell Ginny that we've got a dark wizard gaining speed, and he's gaining it quickly. Get her to notify Order members. See you soon." Prong nodded his antlered head once, and galloped through the window, out of sight.<br>It was a few seconds before Belita spoke.  
>"Wow."<br>"We've got to go," Harry said, business-like, "to my friends' house. They both work at the Ministry, and it'll be safe there." Harry smiled at Belita, pointed his wand at the kitchen and said, smiling "Accio Pumpkin pasties!" They flew into his outstretched left hand. Harry offered his elbow to Belita, who gripped it, frowning. Suddenly, Harry twisted around, and they both experienced the feeling of being squeezed through a black tube... and then they were standing on Ron and Hermione's front doorstep. Belita let go of Harry's elbow, wincing slightly.  
>Harry knocked clearly on the door, and Hermione opened it at once, fear in her eyes. "Ginny's Patronus... Harry... oh Harry!" Hermione's eyes fell upon Belita, who tried to shrink into the shadows. "The informer!" cried Hermione, "come in, come in..." Without further ado, she grabbed Harry and Belita, pulled them inside and pushed the door shut. With a wave of her wand, it was locked securely.<br>"Come up this way," Hermione said breathlessly, running up a narrow staircase, which burst into a large living room.  
>It was a magnificent room... there were Griffindor flags plastered on the walls, along with paintings Ron had aquired from his parent's when they moved out of The Burrow. All firey-haired, they waved at Harry like he was an old friend. "Hey Harry, old boy! How's it holding up?" asked one of them, a cheeky grin gracing his face. "Not too bad, thanks Fred," Harry grinned. Fred winked, and then walked out the side of his frame, no doubt off to visit his painting at George's.<br>The floor was covered with mis-matched armchairs and sofas, with a large space in the middle, where Ron, Rose and Albus were playing with toy broomsticks. Ron was throwing a mini quaffle at them, while they had to see who caught it first. All three were roaring with laughter... but then Ron caught sight of Harry. he stood up quickly, and ran to them. "Harry, who's this? What's going on? Ginny said..." he faltered. It was evident he didn't want to talk about the desperate situation.  
>The four adults found armchairs, and pulled them into a sort of circle, settling down to hear and describe the fandango. Harry explained most of the problem, but then he got stuck. He looked at Belita, who had been twidling her thumbs and staring at the ceiling, eyes glistening with tears.<br>She seemed to realize, a second late, what Harry wanted her to do. She sat up, cleared her throat and began to speak.  
>"Um, well, a few years ago, I met with my husband, Durkresh O'Lloyd. He was a regular at the Pub my sister and I used to own, and... well... we got married and were talking about children. But then I learnt that he was a You-Know-Who supporter... liked the idea of a Wizard-controlled world, where pure-bloods lived as the norm for humans. He probably had ideas even more horrible than You-Know-Who. he wanted all Muggles to be killed, he thought they were slime. He said Muggle-Borns were no better-" Harry, Ron and Hermione all made a low growl of anger and disbelief. "- and that he was going to find a way to keep who he wanted on the world.<br>"So he put three Muggles under the Imperius Curse, and began to experiment with their souls. He first smuggled a Dementor out of the Dementor Prison, so that any useless souls could be disposed of. He then began to play with the Horucrux curse. It did... terrible things... some Muggles had their soul halved into good and evil, and the halves would fight, and destroy each other. Others had their soul implanted into someone else's... people with two souls, both vying for top spot... the souls savaged the other as well.  
>"Finally, he found what he wanted. He found the curse he wanted. It duplicated the soul, and then this duplication was deposited into a soul-less body. Suddenly, there were two men, different in looks, but the same in character. It was un-nerving. And his plan was to find the pure-bloods on the Earth, and have their souls duplicated and placed in a soul-less body. The second body would be magically frozen, un-concious until the first one is on the brink of death, and then it would be freed... the body and soul of the first would be gone, but he would live on in the new body.<br>"But there is a huge problem. The copies, unless frozen, become jealous of the original. Each copy is not perfect... so the main traits are the same, but the finer details, the ones that make us us... they're mutated. And so the copies think that they're inferior, and they gang up on the original... this is what happened to my husband. When they tried to attack him, he had to kill them and answered that question by imperiousing the duplications.  
>"And so his plan begins. He has made an army of Imperioused Himselves, and they're coming to take over the Ministry. Tomorrow."<p> 


End file.
